Inevitability
by maggells
Summary: Some things are just bound to happen.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Inevitability

Pairing: House/Cuddy

Rating: M (strong)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. House belongs to Fox. "Silver Springs" belongs to Fleetwood Mac.

Summary: Some things are just bound to happen.

It was nearing midnight and all of the offices on the fourth floor were darkened. Backlit only by the hanging crescent of a moon reflecting off the glass walls, Gregory House strummed his well-worn acoustic guitar in the half light and sang to a sea of empty air. His staccato baritone drifted out across the open text books and patient files spread haphazardly about the room.

"You could be my silver spring, blue-green colors flashing.  
I would be your only dream. You're shining autumn, ocean crashing.  
And does he tell you that you're pretty, and does he say that he loves you?  
Baby, I don't want to know…"

His fingers felt out the next chord with a practiced ease, eyes shut against the empty room. His masculinized version of the lost love ballad keened across the open spaces around him, vibrating the clear borders of the room. The puzzle he had failed to solve in time tonight (or should he say the patient he had failed to save) had been blonde and traipsing and he felt the song choice only appropriate. The bridge began just as he caught the tapping of familiar heels approaching at the end of the hall.

"Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me  
I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me"

She leaned against his doorframe as he continued to sing, sea colored eyes following his deft fingers pressing the taut strings against the fret board.

"I'll follow you down till the sound of my voice will haunt you"

He opened his eyes and locked them on her transfixed face, making sure she continued to watch him. The pause in the lyrics was palpable. He waited so long to continue she wasn't sure he was going to finish. And then:

"You'll never get away from the sound of the man that loves you"

He completed the song with slow, measured words and chords, dropping her gaze and focusing on his own hands. He strummed soft, improvised patterns as he wound the old guitar down. Even after the last note had resounded and dissipated into the suddenly heavy air he trailed his fingertips silently across the strings, waiting for her to speak.

"I'm sorry about your patient." She broke the delicate mood clumsily and regretted her attempt at consolation immediately, watching him shut himself off again and tense his grip on the neck of the guitar. Her fingers twisted around a dark curl of hair sympathetically and she bit her lip tersely, hoping she had not ruined the moment.

"Don't be. People die." House busied himself with fitting his guitar neatly back into its case, locking the metal clasps and sitting it upright against his overflowing desk. He stood without the help of his cane and began slamming the textbooks and journals shut and stacking them on the bookshelf behind him.

He was pushing her away, brushing her off, shutting her out. She didn't know what to say to reel him back in. "She most likely would have died regardless. The cancer was inoperable once you found it." She winced as she saw his light blue eyes turn steely and his spine snap straight. Wrong thing to say once again.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" His tone was bitter and left no room for further argument. She was tired of putting her own foot in her mouth tonight so she stayed silent, awaiting his cue. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Want a drink?"

"Sure." And it was finally the right answer. The tension started to drain out of his shoulders as he headed for the bottle of bourbon he always kept on hand. Plastic cups emerged from an unseen drawer and he poured them both a hefty shot. "Sorry, no high ball glasses Princess," he jeered before downing the amber liquid in one burning gulp. He swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and shot a look of challenge at Cuddy.

With eyes locked she drank her two fingers of whiskey without a shudder, setting the empty cup down next to his with a smug grin. He smiled genuinely and poured another measure in both cups, taking his to the yellow lounge chair in the corner of the office.

Cuddy took a deep breath and picked hers up as well, following him to sit, legs crossed, on the ottoman in front of him. She lost herself in the rich flecks of gold and mahogany in the liquor, rimming the edge of the plastic cup with a manicured fingernail.

"Why are you here, Cuddy?" His deep voice startled her from her alcohol and she raised her blue eyes to meet his like-colored ones. His intense orbs caught her confused ones and held her like a deer in headlights. At the moment, her reason for coming to his office tonight escaped her and she gaped at him for a fitful moment before finding the truth and deciding to confess it.

"I heard the music from the elevator and followed it here." She wasn't sure why she felt so exposed after her innocent admission but she couldn't shake the feeling she had just given him the upper hand. She sipped her bourbon in silence and waited for the other shoe to drop.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" His cryptic question had her all mixed up again. She wasn't sure what he was playing at tonight but thought, for once, she would play along. Uncrossing and re-crossing her stocking clad legs she tipped the remainder of the sharp drink into her mouth and swallowed slowly.

"Yes." Her answer was hoarse with whiskey and something unidentifiable. He leaned forward into her personal space and she couldn't help but suck in a long breath full of his cologne, her eyes closing of their own accord. His knees were almost touching her, the proximity causing her chest to flush with heat. She held him inside her lungs for an aching minute until regretfully having to exhale. Afraid to open her eyes and find him gone she kept them shut and waited, a deep seated ache lying low in her abdomen.

"Cuddy…" Her name was breathed against her blushing face in a warm rush of air and she shuddered with the knowledge that his lips were only a hairsbreadth from her own. His thumb came up to trace the contours of her collarbone and her eyes snapped open, locking tightly with his. His pupils were dilated so much she found it difficult to make out the silvery sheen of his irises. His lips were parted and expectant and no matter the reasons that swam just out of reach of why they shouldn't be doing this she found she could no longer deny him.

She leaned forward before she could rationalize her way out of it and pressed their lips together in the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

The kiss was both hard and soft. His lips were pliant and warm and whiskey-tinged and his beard scraped against her flushed face. She breathed him in, shaking under the intensity of his calloused hands cradling the back of her head, tangling in her dark curls. He tasted bittersweet and she did not know if she would be able to walk away from him again when this inevitably came to its usual conclusion of heartbreak. Her nails cut into her palms as she gripped his t-shirt resolutely, white knuckled and pleading for _something_, anything, more.

He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, eyes clenched shut at the onslaught of emotions that tore through him. He wanted to ask her "why now?" but couldn't bring himself to break the delicate balance they had managed to create with words. His breath was hot against her lips and she ached for him to kiss her again. He tried in vain to catch his breath and immediately lost it again when he opened his eyes to her gaze locked on his. Her normally cerulean spheres were beetle black with need and he found himself powerless in the wake of her desire.

Their lips crushed together once more and he resigned himself to throw caution to the wind and enjoy her, no matter how much it would undoubtedly hurt later when she pushed him away again. His hands landed on her hips and before she could stop herself she had slid off the ottoman and onto his lap, her skirt riding up to let her thighs straddle him carefully. He wasted no time in pulling her down against his pelvis, holding her in place with a firm grip on her small frame. His greedy hands mapped her curves with gusto, drawing a breathy moan from her throat as he ghosted curious fingertips across her ribs like piano keys.

She mewled her want into his waiting mouth and held onto his shoulder blades helplessly as he threaded his fingers back into her silky locks. She couldn't stop the desperate noises pouring from her lips as he touched her. His large hands fit around her contours like a missing shell. Their chests were pressed so tightly together they had no choice but to share the same breathing cycle, each inhalation brought them ever closer, leaving less and less room to exhale. Dizzy and breathless he pulled her further onto the chair with him, his shoulders hitting the back support as she pushed herself harder against him.

Her body was nearing sensory overload. She could feel his hardness against her hip bones; the denim friction of his jeans rubbed her inner thighs through her nylons; her nipples brushed the inside of her bra with every motion. He was well aware of the effect his body was having on hers. He could feel the wet lace of her thong rubbing against his erection, painting him with want.

"House…" Her hoarse keening cut through the heated air and went straight to his cock. The scent of her perfume was heady in her nostrils and the salt and sweet of her skin lay teasingly on his tongue. Their cells seemed to be vibrating at the same frequency, neutrons and electrons firing in a symphony of mutual excitation. His thumb trailed down her sternum to end at the juncture of her breasts, smearing first one soft globe and then the next with sweat and the remnants of her moisturizer.

"House, please…" Her begging turned him on more than it should and he answered by untying the side knot on her top and extricating her milky breasts from their cotton cocoons. She panted her pleasure as he lapped at the taut skin of her abdomen, ending at the seam of her demi-cup bra, running his tongue along the underside of her heavy lace covered breasts. She shivered as he blew warm puffs of breath down the valley of her cleavage, licking the sun-shy cream of her décolletage with reverence.

This coupling, this meeting of minds and souls and bodies was 20 plus years in the making and neither party was deaf to the sound of their double digit history tolling like iron church bells around them. The blood leaving their oxygen deprived heads to rush south as surely as migratory birds in winter left the edges of the room hazy and indistinct, the colors muted and distorted, the air buzzing with expectant promise. Their forms merged and tangled and transformed into novel shapes and shadows. If a bystander were to look in through the glass walls of this room they would not see two distinct lovers, they would see only an amalgamation of one desire spun and spurned creature, desperate to be acknowledged and nurtured.

He drew her bra from her slender arms with steady strokes and caresses. Her dark nipples implored his hungry mouth's attention, drawing his tongue away from her bared throat. He suckled at her breast like a starving child as she smoothed his damp hair and rocked her hips inexorably against his. She was the divine mother incarnate and the only woman he would put aside his atheism for and worship as a pagan goddess. Her body's bounty lay ripe before him and he was determined to gorge himself on the feast.

She pulled his reluctant mouth off of her glistening nipple and brought his lips back to hers. They kissed like long lost lovers, and she supposed in some ways they were. She could never get enough of this, her body craving his like an addict. His hands raked up the backs of her thighs and she forgot every time he had ever hurt her, remembering only how much she wanted him, has wanted him for two decades. His hands were kneading her ass cheeks and moans spilled from her mouth without restraint. His talented fingers hooked the sides of her panties and began to drag them down over her thigh hi stockings. She tore herself away from his lips and lap long enough for him to get the scrap of lace past her stilettos and to the floor before hurriedly climbing astride his waiting lap once again.

His clever hands were under her skirt before she could blink, fingers gliding without warning through her wetness. She held her breath and arched back until his lips once again found her breasts. His thumb stroked her diamond hard clit at the same pace his tongue stroked her nipple. She squirmed and whined against him, her body bowed and bisected by the two pinpoint lasers of arousal he was creating within her. Her toes pressed divots into the soles of her high heels, the expensive leather unyielding and biting into her instep. Her nails sought purchase in the worn cotton of his shirt, scratching his chest and shoulders in unadulterated desperation.

He sucked hard on the skin coating her collarbones like shellac, dragging sharp teeth over her clavicular notches. Her thighs crushed against his hips, his hand trapped between her pelvic bones and his abdomen. She rubbed her copious wetness against his knuckles, thrusting roughly forward when her clit grazed his rough skin. Bringing her lips to his ear she whispered two distinct words: "Fuck me."

He maneuvered his hand and had three fingers deep inside her before she even realized what he was doing. Her breath left her in a rush of pain and pleasure. It had been so long since she had had anything inside herself except her own fingers. He let her adjust as he dusted her chest and neck with warm open mouth kisses. His tenderness helped to soothe the ache and soon she was able to move slowly against him.

Feeling her walls clench and release him repetitively, he brought his thumb once more to her clit, rubbing concentric circles across her heated flesh, encouraging her to grasp him that much harder. He licked a long line from her navel to her breast bone, delighting in the taste of her skin. He was in awe of her; the sight and sound and scent of her that he had been denied for so long was overwhelming. He buried his face in her tangled tresses and held her still against his chest. They panted together in unison, her small hands thumbing the soft spaces behind his ears, carding through the damp hair at his crown, kneading the tension out of his neck.

He began moving his entrenched hand inside her once again, slow at first then picking up pace as she hummed and whined in his ear. Her voice was breathy and high as she pled for him. "Harder! Oh god right there, yes." He loved the strained needy pitch of her voice as she rode his hand. "Please, more, more, more." He angled his fingers to hit her g-spot and rubbed her clit faster. "Oh fuck! I'm gonna cum…" He could hear the wet prosperous sound of her release deep within her as he continued to thrust.

"Cum for me gorgeous." He captured her half-lidded eyes with a penetrating stare and redoubled his efforts against her g-spot. Her wail of orgasm crashed around him as she vice gripped his fingers inside of her, soaking his hand and his lap with the evidence of her desire for him. He coaxed the last of her pleasure from her and pulled her down for a shaking kiss. She collapsed against his mouth, letting her body relax across his broad frame as they kissed, slow and sweet and meaningfully.


	3. Chapter 3

She rested her forehead against his once more, mimicking the gesture that had followed their first kiss of the evening. She was content to stay that way until a needy moan from him drew her out of her reverie. She opened her eyes to the hunger of his sapphire gaze spearing her with want. It was then that she remembered he was still fully clothed and rock hard beneath her.

With a spreading smile she disentangled herself from his lap and sank to the carpeted floor with trembling knees. His legs fell open of their own accord and she could faintly see the dark stain of her passion across the placard of his jeans. Blushing, she leaned in and placed an open mouthed kiss through the denim onto his cock, tasting herself. He fisted his hands at his sides, eyes burning into hers as he tried desperately not to grab her head and hold it in place. She found the zipper on his jeans with her teeth and tugged it down with a measure of difficulty over his straining erection. Her lissome fingers made short work of the button fly and soon his cock was sprung free from its confines.

"You're not wearing any underwear?" Her curious voice drifted up to him from her position between his knees and the vision of her eye level with his genitals made it impossible to speak. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath to steady himself as she leaned in to run the tip of her tongue up the underside of his penis. He sucked in a sharp breath as she blew softly across the head and gently caressed his inner thigh with her fingernails.

"Cuddy…" His warning went unbidden as she opened her painted red lips to engulf the weeping head of his cock into her waiting mouth. His groan reverberated off the clear walls and sent shockwaves of need down her spine. She worked him inch by inch into her mouth until he felt the head of his penis hit the back of her soft palate. Her nostrils flared at the lack of adequate oxygenation and yet she managed to slide down another few millimeters. She ignored her gag reflex and swallowed around him, his hips jerking forward of their own volition, choking her. White-knuckled, he gripped the seam of the chair as she slowly pulled back and away from his dick. Her lips glistened with saliva and pre-cum, cheeks flushed and hair wild, eyes teary but bright.

He held his hand out to her and she let him guide her back to his lap, his full length pressed hard and hot against her belly. He couldn't resist kissing her again, not minding the taste of himself on her lips. She was more than ready for him, her thighs still wet from the first orgasm. He lifted her hips to accommodate his aching member and lined himself up with her entrance. "Ready?" He had to make sure; he wanted her to need this as much as he did. She nodded her eagerness, holding his eye contact as he slowly lowered her onto him.

She held her breath as he entered her, his width stretching her deliciously, filling her to the hilt. He held her hips still as he steadied himself, bunching the linen of her skirt high around her waist. His hands cupped and kneaded her ass as she nuzzled her face against his, smiling shyly at him. They had waited half their lives for this, deprived themselves of this perfect pleasure for more than twenty years, satisfying their need for each other with collegiate memories and scattered stolen kisses, sublimating their desire with empty banter and decades of denial. This unexpected conclusion to their loneliness was almost more than either could bear. Achingly slow, they began to move.

His thigh was in agony but she eclipsed every ounce of pain that shot through him. He immersed himself in the lucrative business of watching her. Her dark hair had fallen in her eyes while she rode him, radiant and wanton. Sweat beaded at her hairline, across her stomach, in the valley of her breasts. She was the epitome of every fantasy he could formulate in his single track mind, the timeless archetype his starving body craved above all else.

Her small hands rested over his heart, feeling the erratic beats trip-hammer under her touch. His hips met each of her thrusts, hitting her g-spot again with each stroke. His pelvic bone bumped her clit on the down stroke, quickly bringing her to the edge once again. She slowed down her movements, wanting this to last, wanting to remember every touch, every caress, every kiss. She needed to burn this into her memory in case it didn't happen again for another twenty years.

House groaned at her deceleration, tightening his grip on her waist, bruising her. He wondered if he'd get to watch the marks fade or if he'd be relegated to imagining the kaleidoscopic progress of her healing. If this was to only be a singular occurrence he wanted it to be memorable. He caught her mouth with his, reveling in the softness and give of her lips, the warm minty quality of her breath, the tingle and tease of her tongue against his. Kissing her was beginning to become his favorite pastime.

She gasped in surprise as he flipped her backwards onto the ottoman, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he shifted their weight. She wanted to stop him to prevent the pain that she knew this position would cause him but the feeling of him pressed hard and heavy against and inside her at this angle was too much for her to refuse. He grabbed her tightly around the thighs and dragged her forward until she was in the perfect position, penetrating her fast and deep.

She reared back at the sudden fullness, head tipped so far off the ottoman that her hair brushed the floor. Her spine arched gracefully toward him, breasts creamy and pale in the moonlight, the joining of their hips bathed in shadow. He took a moment to appreciate her curves before beginning to thrust in earnest. Her cries of pleasure spurned him on, his movements now harsh and determined to drag her over the edge before he fell over without her. His testicles were painfully tight and he wasn't sure how much more he could stand.

"Lise…" His voice was strained with need and _god_ how long had it been since he called her that? She whimpered her understanding and snaked a hand between them, rubbing her clit furiously as he slammed into her, every muscle taut and poised for release. He reached for her free hand, lacing their fingers. The gesture was so intensely romantic and insanely out of character she nearly wept. After this it was going to be impossible for her to push him away again. She just hoped it would be the same for him.

His thrusts were aligned just right inside of her, hurtling her towards another orgasm half a breath behind him. "Lise, fuck, I need…" He couldn't finish, the sensations too strong, too close to the surface. "I know, I'm right behind you." Her breathy encouragement was all he needed to let go. He pulled her legs higher around him, angling himself even deeper, thrusting in abandon now. Her eyes rolled as she felt him come undone, filling her to the brim with his thick cum. She kept her word and came right after, screaming his name into the night, drenching him in liquid desire.

They remained entwined, sticky and satiated, draped across his office furniture as long as his leg would allow it. Afterward he peeled her off of him to lie back in the chair, drawing her up and onto his chest after he was situated. He brushed damp tendrils of her hair off her face, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. "If I had known all it took to get into your pants was _singing_ I could have been serenading you for the last two decades." She chuckled at his lame joke, more out of nerves than any real humor. She was still so afraid he would make her regret this later.

"What now?" Her question caught her by surprise, meaning to stay quiet and not ruin the moment. She felt him frown against her face and sigh. She cringed at the implication, wishing she had kept her damn mouth shut. "Now we go to my place and start all over again." His matter of fact answer had her up and staring at him before she could blink.

"What?" Her confused, incredulous response was endearing and he couldn't help but tease her. "Unless you prefer your place." His grin was infuriating and breathtaking all at once and she couldn't help the wide smile that spread across her face. Hopeful for the first time since Michigan that things might just work out she curled herself against his chest once more, letting him wrap strong, familiar arms around her, and prayed that they wouldn't fuck it up this time.


End file.
